<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>number one victory royale yeah fortnite we bout to get down (get down) by marblehead</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29531157">number one victory royale yeah fortnite we bout to get down (get down)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/marblehead/pseuds/marblehead'>marblehead</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Friday Night Funkin' (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BF is Keith, Depression, Flashbacks, GF is Cherry, Gen, Guns, Memory Loss, Pico has unresolved trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, School Shootings, Trauma, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 13:28:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29531157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/marblehead/pseuds/marblehead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I was in a school shooting and <i>completely fucking forgot until just now</i>.”</p>
<p>Pico finishes his sentence giggling like a 12-year-old girl, but the other two aren’t as amused. They exchange shocked expressions, Keith running a hand through his hair and Cherry putting a hand to her cheek.</p>
<p>“What, why are you not laughing? That shit is ridiculous.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boyfriend/Girlfriend (Friday Night Funkin’)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>146</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>number one victory royale yeah fortnite we bout to get down (get down)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>OK SO UHH</p>
<p>cool fun fact i was in a school shooting and this is definitely me projecting that unresolved trauma into this fic &lt;3 school shootings are super fucked up and i didn’t realize that until recently so i’m just now processing that event lmao</p>
<p>i hope u enjoy and that i do my boy justice. if this does well and ppl want another i’ll write another chapter</p>
<p>also if ur reading this and helped make pico’s school or fnf pls forgive me</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pico considered himself one of the smartest, most capable people he knew. He might not have the best social skills, but he did know how to take care of himself and get his shit done. He could go to work, come home, and not feel exhausted.</p>
<p>Sure, he had issues keeping up sometimes and had a pretty poor memory, but those things were relatively easy to work through. He didn’t like thinking too much; it made him start to remember easily forgettable things. And if that happened, his all-too-delicate way of going about life would be thrown away.</p>
<p>Luckily for Pico though, even when simple things (like what he needed to buy at the store) were at the back of his mind, taunting him as he struggled to remember them, he could usually put his finger on what it was eventually. It wasn’t like they were gone forever.</p>
<p>But lately, it felt like there was something <i>more</i>. Something much bigger. Something that he’d forgotten that was more important than it seemed, like a monster just below the surface waiting to awaken. As much as it scared him, he elected to ignore it.</p>
<p>Big mistake.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>The moment Pico started to remember, it was another typical day. He’d finished an overnight shift at work (a shitty burger joint down the road from his apartment) and was heading home, ready to finally relax. Music blasting in his headphones, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Mildly surprised, he pulled it out. He didn’t get many texts, especially since he’d ghosted all his friends from school.</p>
<p>Pico reads the name of the person who’d sent him the text. Keith. He raises his eyebrows slightly, unlocking his phone to read it.</p>
<p>
  <i>yo wanna come over??</i>
</p>
<p>He scoffs quietly, making a comment under his breath. <i>ig?? when were u thinking?</i></p>
<p>
  <i>anytime is fine, cherry and i were gonna play some fortnite or something</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>fine, ill pick up snacks</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>hell yea</i>
</p>
<p>Sighing, Pico pocked his phone and turned up his music. Alright. First stop, gas station, then to Keith’s apartment.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>As he enters the gas station, he takes out an earbud in case anyone decides to talk to him. He bites his lip. What were their favorite snacks again? He’d done this a million times, and he still forgot. Quickly, he texts Keith.</p>
<p>
  <i>send snack requests</i>
</p>
<p>Waiting a few moments, Pico grumbles. Looks like Keith wasn’t going to answer; he hadn’t even seen the texts yet. Struggling to remember, he takes a wild guess, grabbing three bags of chips and three Monster Energy Drinks™ that he was 99% sure they’d like. Most of them tasted exactly the same, right?</p>
<p>Finally, he goes to check out with his items, feeling something familiar about the attendant at the register.</p>
<p>“How have you been, Pico?” They suddenly ask.</p>
<p>He feels confusion suddenly grip his mind. He freezes, scanning the attendant’s features, trying hard to remember them. Long black hair, pale skin, black eyes… Eh, didn’t ring any bells. To avoid being awkward, most people would have gone along with it and pretended to know them. But Pico was not most people.</p>
<p>“I don’t remember you.” He shrugs.</p>
<p>The employee furrows their eyebrows, pulling their shiny black hair behind their shoulder. “I’m Nene. From school? We were friends for a <i>long</i> while” Nene laughs awkwardly. Pico tilts his head a little. It still didn’t ring any bells, but he finally decided to play along with her.</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah. How are you?” He sighs, not really caring.</p>
<p>“I’m alright. I’ve been doing a lot better since I got therapy, y’know?” She shrugs. “How have <i>you</i> been, though? No one from school has heard from you in a couple years, we assumed you’d died or something.”</p>
<p>Pico purses his lips, looking away briefly. “I’ve been really good actually.”</p>
<p>“I would hope so,” Nene gives him a warm, happy smile, and he can’t help but hate it. “After everything that happened to us, you deserve it.”</p>
<p>Pico opens his mouth to ask what happened but thinks better of it.</p>
<p>He has no clue. He really has no clue.</p>
<p>As he finishes checking out and they say their goodbyes, Nene gives Pico her phone number on the back of his receipt, telling him to keep in contact. Pico pockets the scrap of paper, not even planning on touching it.</p>
<p>He huffs, not sparing a look behind him as he exits the gas station.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Finally, Pico makes it to Keith’s apartment complex. Exhausted and drained from thinking the entire way there, he practically drags himself up the stairs. He reaches their apartment door and knocks. After a few moments, Cherry answers the door.</p>
<p>“Oh, hey Pico! Come on in!” She smiles sweetly, opening the door all the way. Pico sighs, thanking her. He sets the plastic bag of groceries on the coffee table in front of Keith. The blue-haired boy was so focused on his game, that he hardly seemed to notice Pico’s arrival.</p>
<p>“Keith, baby, Pico is here!” Cherry taps his shoulder, leaning across the back of the couch to place her chin on his shoulder. Keith snaps out of his air-tight concentration and looks up at Pico. His face lights up.</p>
<p>“Hey!” He grins, quickly noticing the bag on the table. “Holy shit. You’re a real one, man.”</p>
<p>As he begins to shuffle through the contents, Pico gives a breathy laugh. “I didn’t remember what you liked, so I guessed.”</p>
<p>Keith stops, giving him a look. “Really? I texted you back like, two minutes after you texted me.”</p>
<p>“I, uh,” Pico scratches at his face, “I guess I forgot.”</p>
<p>“It’s just snacks, it’ll be fine Pico.” Cherry smiles, and Keith nods along.</p>
<p>“Cool. Lemme just get changed real quick and I’ll be back.”</p>
<p>Pico heads down the hall to the bathroom, pulling off his black drawstring bag. He always remembered to bring a change of clothes; he didn’t know why, but it always put a part of him to peace knowing he had clothes if something happened.</p>
<p>He stares at his torso in the mirror, two dark, rounded scars on his side. He doesn’t remember where they came from or when they got there, but he couldn’t help but wonder from time to time. There was probably an obvious answer, but he just never bothered to try and remember.</p>
<p>Pico grumbles, pulling out his gun holster and carefully strapping it around his waist, and then around his thigh. This was always the most frustrating part of getting changed; he wasn’t allowed to have his firearm on him during work (which was a rule he reluctantly followed to avoid being fired) so usually, he’d put it on immediately after his shift. But after getting stopped by cops a couple of times to show them his open carry license, he finally learned to just wait and leave it in his backpack. If it were up to him, the thing would be on him at all times.</p>
<p>It was a safety thing, of course. He was just trying to be prepared. Being scared would be dumb.</p>
<p>It wouldn’t make any sense.</p>
<p>Pico enters the living room again, plopping down on the couch. Cherry flinches when he does.</p>
<p>“Pico! Be careful with that, please!” She crosses her arms, looking at his gun. Pico rolls his eyes, taking it out of the holster and gently placing it on the coffee table.</p>
<p>“Better?”</p>
<p>Cherry smiles, visibly relaxing. “Much. Thank you.”</p>
<p>After they watch Keith play a few more rounds of Fortnite, Pico sits up and takes a sip of his Monster Energy Drink™.</p>
<p>“Dude, let’s play Mario Kart or something.”</p>
<p>Keith scoffs. “What are we, 13?”</p>
<p>“No, I just wanna play a game since you invited me over, dumbass.” He snorts, “I also miss my guy Lemmy.”</p>
<p>“What did you even do when you were 13, Pico?” Cherry jokes. Pico opens his mouth to respond but quickly closes it again. He… doesn’t remember.</p>
<p>“I don’t know? What do 13 year olds do?” He tries to cover up his growing confusion. What was with him and people mentioning his childhood today? What was with him and forgetting things too?!</p>
<p>Pico sees Keith laugh. “Dude, what <i>did</i> you do as a middle schooler? Those years are fucking crazy, something <i>had</i> to have happened.” He leans back into the couch.</p>
<p>Pico shrugs. “Well, let’s play some goddamn Mario Kart and see if any memories are brought back.”</p>
<p>Luckily, they continue, and the conversation is forgotten. Only by the other two, of course. Pico is left working overtime to remember what happened.</p>
<p>And suddenly, on the last lap of rainbow road, he remembers.</p>
<p>He remembers the screams. He remembers the cries and shouting slowly quieting as more and more classrooms were stormed and all his classmates died, one by one. He remembers Nene begging him to kill her. He remembers the sirens. He remembers being shot in the side, running and breathing curses at his aggressors as he promised himself he’d get his revenge.</p>
<p>He remembers the blood running down the walls. He remembers how the dark red stained his clothes and puddled on the floor, and how it got in his mouth and dripped down his face when he played dead to avoid being murdered. He remembers how it made his shoes stick to the ground when he finally got out and walked to the ambulance across the concrete.</p>
<p>He remembers the distant gunfire. He remembers the terror of not knowing how close or far away it was, of not knowing what was happening or how many people there were out to kill him. He remembers all the noises of death, the crunching and squelching of bones and organs after the shooters did god knows what to their victims.</p>
<p>Pico remembers everything in that split second, and he knows he should feel upset, or terrified, or disgusted, <i>anything.</i></p>
<p>But instead, he feels amused. And so he laughs.</p>
<p>His character in the game flies off the track repeatedly as Pico finally loses his shit. He falls into hysterics, laughing so hard he can feel his sides start to hurt. He puts a hand to his head as he continues to laugh hysterically, wiping away the tears that start to run down his face.</p>
<p>After god knows how long, he finally calms himself, breathing heavily. Pico sits up. His two friends are staring at him, wide-eyed, clearly uncomfortable.</p>
<p>“Dude.” Keith laughs awkwardly. “Have you finally lost it? Do I need to call a mental hospital?”</p>
<p>“No, no, I just remembered the funniest thing from when I was 13.” He sniffs, wiping his eyes. “God, that’s funny as shit.”</p>
<p>Cherry raises her eyebrows. “Well, tell us then!”</p>
<p>“God, okay, you’re not gonna believe this,” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself.</p>
<p>“I was in a school shooting and <i>completely fucking forgot until just now</i>.”</p>
<p>Pico finishes his sentence giggling like a 12-year-old girl, but the other two aren’t as amused. They exchange shocked expressions, Keith running a hand through his hair and Cherry putting a hand to her cheek.</p>
<p>“What, why are you not laughing? That shit is ridiculous.”</p>
<p>“Pico.” Cherry purses her lips, resting a hand on her friend’s knee. “Are you okay?”</p>
<p>Pico furrows his brow, amused demeanor immediately slipping. “Of course I’m- what the fuck? I’m fine, of course, I’m okay.” He scoffs.</p>
<p>“You’ve never mentioned this. Ever.” Keith adds.</p>
<p>“Yeah, because I forgot!” Pico throws up his hands in frustration. “I don’t believe this, I thought you’d think it was hilarious! But now you’re just concerned and uncomfortable!”</p>
<p>“Pico, we-” Cherry starts, but Pico is standing already. He grabs his black bag and grumbles as he storms out the door.</p>
<p>The whole walk back to his apartment, he feels his frustration only growing as he thinks about it more. They joke about <i>their</i> bad memories, why couldn’t he do it too?! What kind of shitty friends were they?!</p>
<p>He doesn’t notice until much later that he’d forgotten his gun at their apartment.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Pico is laying in bed trying to sleep when it finally sinks in.</p>
<p>God, that was really fucked up.</p>
<p>How did he forget? Why didn’t he remember it until then?</p>
<p>Pico would never tell anyone, but he cried himself to sleep that night.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>